


Thrill

by Hils



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-14
Updated: 2005-10-14
Packaged: 2018-10-16 08:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10567506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hils/pseuds/Hils





	

Viggo couldn’t help but smile as he stepped into his apartment, arms laden with shopping. Sean was just where he’d left him, sprawled on the couch, his legs propped up on the coffee table and a beer in his hand. The only difference now was that several empty cans sat on the floor beside him and his cheeks had taken on a slightly red glow.

“Good match?” Viggo asked as he set the shopping down in the kitchen and moved to collect the empty beer cans.

“We’re two nil up.” Sean said with an excited grin. “The lads haven’t played this good in ages.”

Viggo smiled good naturedly, knowing that if the Blades won there’d be some amazing celebration sex to follow. He’d never quite understood why football made Sean so horny but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“I’m going to go and paint for a bit, come get me when the match is over.”

“You know I will,” Sean replied with a sly grin before turning his attention back to the match.

* * *

Normally the end of a football match was signalled to Viggo by either a roar of delight or a roar of anger. This time, however, Viggo was amused to hear singing coming from the living room.

“You fill up my senses, like a gallon of Magnet.”

Intrigued, Viggo set down his paint brush and wandered back into the living room. Sean was still sat on the sofa but he was singing along to the chanting of several thousand fans on the televion. Apparently the Blades had won.

“Like a packet of Woodbine,” Sean continued to sing. “Like a good pinch of snuff.”

“What’s that you’re singing?” Viggo asked with an amused smile. “If you can call it singing.”

“It’s our song! It’s bloody fantastic!”

And he resumed singing.

“Like a night out in Sheffield, like a greasy chip butty. Oh Sheffield United, come thrill me again.”

“Sean?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s Magnet?”

“Beer.”

“And Woodbine?”

“Tobacco.”

“Dare I ask what a chip butty is?”

“Chips…or fries as you Americans call them in a sandwich with butter.”

“Yeah, I knew I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Sean?”

“Yeah?”

“Come thrill me again.”

Fin


End file.
